


Future Luck

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14195154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: If you’re raised right, and you live in a place where there are wee folk and such, you know it’s only polite to leave some milk outside for them each night. Draco finds out first hand why.





	Future Luck

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** Draco is stuck in a loop where he's married to Harry and nothing else makes sense. As luck would have it, if he can figure out the "secret" - he'll be out of the loop. Now... what is that secret? It all has to do w/ is luck and Harry.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> **Notes:** Written for the 2018 HP_Getlucky fest. Thank you to my beta readers, Sevfan and Emynn, and to my co-mods, Lilyseyes and Torino10154. *smooches*

~

Future Luck

~

“But why can’t Dobby do it for me, Mama?” asked Draco, trailing after his mother.

Narcissa, cradling the dish of cream in her hands, approached the window, carefully placing it there. “Because this is for _your_ luck, Draco. Not Dobby’s, not your father’s, not even mine. Promise me when you’re all grown up, you’ll do this.” 

“I promise, Mama.” Draco hugged his stuffed dragon to his chest. “I won’t ever forget.” 

“See that you don’t.” Closing the window, Narcissa smiled at him. “Now come on, it’s time for bed.” 

Nodding, Draco walked over to his bed and climbed in, still clutching his dragon. Leaning over him, Narcissa kissed his forehead, and, when he held up his dragon for a kiss, she chuckled softly and obliged. “Sleep well, darling.” 

~

Draco woke slowly, stretching his arms and legs, pointing his toes and rotating his ankles. When his foot encountered someone, he didn’t think much of it. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d brought some bloke home from Club Shamrock, after all. 

Smirking, Draco rolled onto his back, cracking open one eye. The sun was coming through the blinds just enough to be annoying, and he huffed. He must’ve forgot to close the damn window after putting out his dish of cream again. A habit he wasn’t even sure why he’d kept up over the years. “Ugh, too bright,” he groaned.

“Relax,” said a masculine voice. “I’m on it.” 

The mattress shifted, and when the light was blocked, Draco hummed. “Thanks. I may have to keep you around.” 

A soft chuckle greeted that remark. “Yeah, I guess I’ll stick around for a while. We’ve only been married ten years, after all.” 

It took a moment for those words to sink in, and before they did, someone pressed firm lips to Draco’s, and the mattress shifted again. 

Draco’s eyes popped open and he sat straight up. “What the fuck did you just say?” He blinked, blearily focussing on a figure moving away from the bed. Another blink brought him into focus. “Potter?!” Draco shrieked. 

Potter, naked and clearly unashamed, turned to face him. “I’m ‘Potter’ now, am I?” he asked, obviously amused. “Funny, that’s not what you were screaming last night.” And with a cheeky wink, he sashayed out the door. 

Mouth open, Draco heard a shower start up. Looking around, he realised it looked like his flat but was somehow…different. The bedroom had been magically expanded to add a sitting area, there was also a desk covered with parchments and quills in the other corner, and there were pictures of Potter and him, and their assorted friends, scattered everywhere.

Slipping out of bed, Draco reached for where his dressing gown should have been, only to pick up a red-and-gold-coloured monstrosity. 

The water stopped and, cursing under his breath, Draco on pulled the dressing gown, belting it around his waist. When Potter walked in moments later, he was again unabashedly naked. 

Seeing Draco standing there, he shook his head. “Never fails. What is your obsession with my dressing gown?” And stretching out his hand, caught a green and silver dressing gown as it flew towards him. Slipping it on, he said, “I think you just like seeing me in yours. Anyway, I’ll start breakfast, and you should probably get ready for work. Isn’t your big department meeting this morning, right? In which Smith makes the big announcement?” 

Big meeting? Announcement? What the fuck was happening? Draco crossed his arm. “Look, Potter, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but—”

Potter shook his head. “We’ve no time for role-play now, Draco. Go shower. We can pretend to be ‘Potter’ and ‘Malfoy’ tonight.” He grinned. “I’ll even spank you if you like, once you’ve got your promotion.”

“Promotion?” Draco blinked. “I’m getting a promotion?” 

Potter’s smile faded. “I sure hope so. You said you were, and since I gave up my job with the Aurors because you insisted, you’re the main breadwinner now.” He crossed his arms. “Or have you forgotten?” 

“No,” lied Draco. “Right. I’m it. Which is why we both live here…right?” 

“Yes.” Potter frowned. “Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine.” 

Potter nodded. “All right. Get ready.” 

Once Potter exited, Draco whimpered. Was someone playing an elaborate joke on him? “Wand,” he muttered, turning in place and looking around. “Where is my wand?” 

*It won’t change anything*

Wincing, Draco spun, staring at the tiny creature sitting on the bed. “What the fuck are you supposed to be, then?”

*You know what I am*

Draco scowled. “Leprechaun,” he muttered. “What do you want?” 

*To improve your luck*

“Why?” 

The leprechaun regarded Draco. *You are owed a debt. This is your repayment. A look at what your future could be should you choose wisely*

“This is my future?” Draco looked around. “I’m married to Potter, supporting him, and living in this manky flat?” 

*It is one possible future*

“What are my other options?” Draco asked, lips pursed. 

The leprechaun shook its head. *So greedy, so suspicious, so Slytherin. Very well, see what else could be* And with a faint smile, it snapped its fingers.

* * *

Draco’s eyes popped open and he sat up, heart racing. Looking around, he saw his flat back to the way it usually was, no one in bed beside him, and he exhaled. “A dream,” he muttered. “Just a dream. Thank fuck.” 

Collapsing back onto the bed, he closed his eyes again. It had been one vivid dream, even down to the smell of Potter beside him, and now that it was over, he rather missed it. Turning his head, Draco inhaled. Weirdly, the pillow he wasn’t lying on still smelled like Potter. 

“Right,” he muttered. “Cracking up now.” He snorted. “Married to Potter. As if.” 

“Well you won’t be for long, don’t worry.” 

Shrieking, Draco sat up, staring at Potter who stood at the door. This Potter was naked, just like the last one had been, but, instead of a cheeky grin, he wore a scowl. “What…what—?”

Potter held up a hand. “Relax. I haven’t forgotten our deal. As you said when you showed up at the pub and practically dragged me out, a fuck is a fuck, and this doesn’t mean we’re staying together.” 

Draco blinked. “It doesn’t?” 

“Of course not.” Potter raised his hand, deftly catching his clothes as they flew towards him. “The divorce will still proceed as planned.” 

“Divorce?!” To his surprise, a lump filled Draco’s throat. “And it’s been…ten years?” 

“Last I checked. What, you don’t remember?” Potter laughed darkly. “Of course you don’t. It’s probably seemed like longer to you, right? Stuck in a marriage which your mother forced you to accept. Well, don’t worry, you’re almost shut of me.” 

Mother? Draco exhaled. What did she have to do with anything? Watching Potter carefully, Draco said, “Look, maybe we can talk about this. Do we have to be hasty—”

“I think the time for talking’s past, don’t you?” Potter, fully dressed, stared at Draco, his expression unyielding. “You’ve made it clear you don’t care to be married, you like living on your own, being fancy free and picking up random blokes from Club Shamrock. Well, I hope it makes you happy, Draco. Goodbye.” 

Potter walked out the door and a flare of pure panic left Draco frozen. By the time he could move, could speak, the front door had slammed. Groaning, he fell back onto the bed again, muttering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

*That seems unlikely now*

“Merlin, Circe, and Morgana!” Draco swore, sitting up. Right at the foot of the bed, the leprechaun from his dream was floating. “You again?” He frowned. “Wait, is this another dream?” 

*None of these are dreams*

Draco shifted up in the bed, leaning back against the headboard, his arms crossed. “Right. You said before this is a possible future.” 

*It is*

“So what choice do I have to make to have the last future you showed me come true?” 

The leprechaun smirked. *Liked that one better, did you*

“Well, Potter seemed happier with me in the last one. And he’s not a man anyone should have angry with them.” Draco shrugged. “It’s simple self-preservation. Plus, he has influential friends.” 

*And those are the only reasons you prefer the first future* The leprechaun somehow gave the impression of being amused. *You would do well not to lie to yourself*

“Shut up,” Draco muttered. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” 

*No you do not* The leprechaun’s expression went sly. *Is this the future you wish, then? Say the word and—*

“No!” Draco coughed. “Surely there are more than two options?” 

*There is one more*

* * *

Draco lay still, his heart pounding in his chest, afraid to open his eyes. He could feel a breeze coming through the open window and he inhaled. What would he find when he did look? Where was he, and was Potter there or not?

“You can stop pretending, I know you’re awake.” 

Exhaling shakily, Draco opened his eyes and looked up into Potter’s amused green ones. “Hey,” he whispered. 

Potter didn’t move, but Draco somehow got the impression he’d relaxed. “Hey, yourself,” he said. And leaning down, he kissed Draco. 

Fireworks went off behind Draco’s eyes, and he wrapped his arms around Potter, clinging to him. The kiss deepened, and when Potter drew back, they were both panting. A disappointed whine escaped his throat before he could tamp it down. 

Potter chuckled. “Well, looks like that question’s been answered,” he murmured, his eyes searching Draco’s. 

“What question?” Draco whispered. 

“Whether or not you regret what we did last night.”

Draco cleared his throat. “I’m not sure I remember what we did.”

Potter’s smile deepened. “No? Care for a reminder?” 

“Please,” said Draco, his breath catching at the way Potter’s eyes darkened. 

As opposed to before, when Potter had moved slowly, giving Draco time to shift away, this time Potter moved rapidly, his fingers skating over Draco’s skin, his mouth devouring Draco’s, his tongue showing Draco unmistakably what he wanted, what he needed. 

Draco responded immediately, arching up, straining to get closer. Their mouths moved together, and Draco, rapidly losing his mind, clung to Potter’s shoulders and wrapped his legs around his waist. 

Potter growled, shifting Draco so that he was better positioned for him to…

Draco shouted into Potter’s mouth as his fingers slipped inside Draco, stretching him. And as those fingers worked Draco open, Potter’s other hand was on his chest, teasing his nipple, flicking it, making heat coil in Draco core. 

“Fuck!” Draco gasped, dragging his mouth from Harry’s to arch his back even more in an attempt to pull Potter’s fingers deeper. 

“So gorgeous,” whispered Potter, and something inside Draco melted, made him unable to think, only feel. Feel the stretch and burn as he added more fingers, feel the slick lubrication he wordlessly produced, feel the growl rumbling from Potter’s throat as their bodies writhed together.

When Potter manoeuvred Draco into position, slid his legs up over his shoulders, and, bending Draco in half, plunged into him, Draco was already high on pleasure. Closing his eyes, he grunted as Potter fucked him, first slowly, but inexorably speeding up. Biting his lip, he tried to stay quiet, but Potter wasn’t having it.

“Let me hear you,” Potter whispered into his ear, catching the lobe in his teeth as his hips continued thrusting against Draco. “Want to hear what I do to you—”

Those words released the floodgates, and Draco couldn’t hold back, obscenities and whimpers falling from his mouth as Potter, _Harry_ , continued riding him with steady, long, mind-melting strokes. 

As he plunged into Draco, he shifted, as if searching for something, and the moment he slid over Draco’s prostate, it was if lightning had gone off inside him. “Fuck!” he keened, and a jubilant laugh burst from Harry. 

“Got it,” he said, and proceeded to pound away at that spot. 

Draco trembled, pleasure rising inside him to finally crash over him in a wave that made his vision white out. With a wordless shout, he came, his cock spurting ribbons of hot come onto Harry’s abdomen. 

Harry continued moving, but his rhythm went ragged, erratic. Draco felt him come, his body going rigid as his hips shuddered against Draco’s and he spilled inside him. 

They both panted, catching their breath, and after a minute, Harry slipped out of Draco, rolling onto his back. “Wow.” 

Draco licked his lips. “Agreed.” Stretching, he said, “So, was that all we did last night?” 

Harry leaned up onto his elbow and looked down at Draco. He was frowning. “Well, after we renewed our marriage vows.” Reaching out, he gently tucked a lock of hair back behind Draco’s ear and cupped his face. “You really don’t remember?” 

Smiling, Draco turned his head, kissing Harry’s palm. “Of course I do,” he lied. “Ten years of marriage deserves to be celebrated.” 

Harry’s face cleared. “Yes it does, although we still have work today.” 

“We do?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “Both of us?”

“Unless you’ve suddenly quit the Unspeakables.” Harry hummed. “You haven’t, have you?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” said Draco. “And you’re still working at the DMLE?” 

“Yep.” Harry’s ever narrowed. “Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine.” Draco smiled. “I’m just not in the mood for work right now.” 

“Nor am I.” Harry sighed. “But we have to anyway, so…time to get up.” 

“Ugh,” Draco groaned. “Next time we do this we need to take time off for a renewal honeymoon.” 

“You,” said Harry, leaning down to kiss him, “are brilliant. Alas, that will have to wait another ten years.” Sighing, he threw back the covers and stood up. “Now, I’ll shower and then make breakfast. By the time you’re done in the bath, it should be ready.” 

As Draco watched him walk away, he focussed on his arse. 

“I can feel your eyes on me,” Harry laughed, tossing a grin over his shoulder. “And we can’t be late today!” 

Once he left the room and Draco heard the shower start, he sat up and looked around. It _wasn’t_ his flat, it wasn’t anywhere he recognised, but it was clear they had both made their mark on the place. 

*Is this the one, then*

Wincing, Draco took a couple calming breaths before turning to glare at the leprechaun, who was sitting on the bed beside him. “I wish you’d stop doing that!” 

*By now you should know to expect me*

“Sorry, I was a bit distracted,” Draco huffed.

*Understandable* The leprechaun’s bland smile belied the twinkle in its eyes. 

Draco cleared his throat. “I…this one will do,” he said. 

*Good choice* The leprechaun raised its hand. 

“Wait!” Draco cried. “So what happens now? Do I just go on from this point?” 

*Oh no. This is your future, but you still have to make it happen*

Draco blinked. “How?” 

*You’ll know*

“But what if I miss it—?” 

*You won’t*

Everything went dark.

* * *

Draco woke, his head pounding and his heart racing. He sat up, looking around. “My old flat. Damn. Harry?” 

There was no answer and, groaning, Draco fell back onto the bed. “I have to make it happen? But how?” he muttered. 

When no one replied, not even the leprechaun, Draco climbed out of bed, and headed for the shower. Once he was clean, he dressed and, after making a quick stop at the corner coffee shop, he headed for Malfoy Manor, or what was left of it. 

Letting himself in, Draco looked around at the desolate interior. The tapestries and antiques that had provided the backdrop to his childhood were gone, all having been sold off to pay reparations. Still, they had been lucky, all things considered. “Mother?” 

“In here, dear.” 

Walking into his mother’s favourite sitting room, Draco froze when he saw who was with her. “Har—Potter?” 

Potter stood up, a cautious smile on his face. “Malfoy,” he said. “I stopped by to see your mother and she mentioned you’re at loose ends right now.” 

Draco glanced at Narcissa, who simply smiled. “I…am, yes. Why?” 

Potter cleared his throat. “Well, they’re looking for people to join the Unspeakables, and it seems the sort of thing you’d be interested in. I could…sponsor you.” 

“Sponsor me?” He would owe Potter? The words of refusal were on the tip of Draco’s tongue when, from the corner of his eye, he spotted a dish of cream on the windowsill. He paused, remembering the words of the leprechaun. Was this it? Was this his chance for the future he wanted?

*Seize your chance*

Draco winced as the words sounded clearly in his mind. 

“Are you all right, dear?” asked Narcissa, and Draco dragged his eyes from the window to look at her, really look at her. Her eyes were shadowed, she was worried. For him. Worried about his future. 

Draco exhaled. “I’m fine, Mother.” Moving forward, he swallowed his pride and, extending his hand to Potter, said, “And thank you for your generous offer, Potter. I…accept.” 

Potter’s grip was firm, warm. A tingle of awareness went up Draco’s arm and Potter’s eyes flared with _something_. Interest, perhaps? “Brilliant.” Releasing Draco’s hand, he stepped back. “I’ll get cracking on the paperwork and I’ll be in touch, Malfoy.” And bowing to Narcissa, he left. 

“I’m glad you accepted his offer, dear.” Narcissa smiled. “I was worried you’d refuse.” 

Draco hummed. “I was worried I would, too.” He looked once again at the dish on the windowsill. “I see you still put out those dishes of cream.” 

“Of course I do.” Narcissa nodded. “One should always cultivate luck for oneself, dear. You never know when it will be useful.” 

Slowly, Draco nodded. “You could be right.” 

~


End file.
